


call it fate, call it karma

by intoxicatelou



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Post Hell, Queer Sam, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Sam's Birthday, angst followed by fluff, around season 3/4 ish, but instead gets a kiss from his brother so it works out, dean is an asshole but then he isn't, good shit, poetic prose, slight mention of jessica/sam, so you know, the angst is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7687492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intoxicatelou/pseuds/intoxicatelou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam used to think his soul could be saved. Dean made sure it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	call it fate, call it karma

**Author's Note:**

> heyo, this is another Text Fic that me and my bestie breck wrote a few night ago in the comfort of our conversation. this is angsty but then it got happy bless breck for taking us there. so for those who commented on the last fic, i hope we don't hurt u as much here. <3
> 
> as usual, credit for this fic goes to me and breck. i love her a lot.
> 
> the title is from the strokes song of the same name, call it fate, call it karma, and i would 10/10 recommend listening to the song and reading this fic bc it's exactly the vibe this fic has. 
> 
> pls comment n kudos n sob with us over these lovely boys ok bye have a nice day !!!!

Sam chokes on maroon, on half empty promises and chaotic good. Dean should be back by now.

 

Dean’s wearing his hoodie, and sam watches him.He looks, sees him in a nameless bar with a nameless face and cries. She is beautiful and also his heartache. Dean asked for fifteen minutes. It’s only been seven.

 

This afternoon, Dean took a bullet for him. It was a shifter with a crooked aim ,killingcamp site families. It was a twisted thing and the bullet hit Dean in the arm when it should’ve been Sam’s heart. Dean Winchester does not take a bullet for just anybody. Sam should give his brother his time.

 

But it’s ten minutes and Sam can’t see Dean anymore. He wanted it to be his heart.

 

14 minutes and Sam is left with nothing but regret. But 20 minutes and half a bottle of liquor and Sam feels nothing at all. It’s better this way.

 

The car is still running and he thinks he didn't die this morning, but maybe he'll choke on the fumes and get lucky.

 

His birthday is next week and Sam likes to wish for things in passing.

 

He thinks Dean will forget, so used to the years he didn't have to even acknowledge that Sam was alive, but truth is : May 2nd rolls around and Sam wakes up to a steaming cup of real coffee on his beside table, next to the latest true crime novel by his favorite author.Dean is humming Led Zeppelin in the bathroom, shower running and providing backing vocals. It feels almost domestic if Sam just closes his eyes and pretends the sheets don't smell like cigarette smoke and other people's lust.

 

His own desire is a green eyed thing and smells like leather and detergent soap. It is not clean though, it is a dirty and darkhot. He dreams it, and wakes up telling Dean it's just another nightmare. Sam is one year older, but just another year worse. He lets the coffee burn his throat on purpose.

 

Birthdays were Special with Jess. They were revered. They were buttercream frosting and celebratory shots and anything but a reminder that in six months his mother would be dead another year.

 

Dean doesn't let him forget and for once, it's out of his control. Dean has her eyes and sucker punch lips to match, or at least  that's what Dad had said. Sam got her attitude, got her heart spirit now dipped in demon blood, poisoned forever. Sam used to be able to look in mirrors and see something salvagable, he used to dream that he could go back to that life.  But now he knows, some things are better ruined forever.

 

Sam used to think his soul could be saved. Dean made sure it wasn't.

 

So, when Sam's other birthday gift is the kiss he gets from dean over the box of cassettes, He should have seen it coming.

 

It is fast and not right as it should be, but just what he needs (Dean's always been what he needs) so he crushes newspaper wrapping and pulls.

 

It’s a moment later and sam's shuffling through all the tapes again, despite knowing all of them by heart. He's complaining at the top of his lungs (sue him, it's his birthday) about the lack of choices, and he's not entirely sure Dean didn't just kiss him to shut him up.

 

Quite frankly, he can't remember the conversation building up to it. Building up to the moment they stopped being the brothers and became _those_ brothers.

 

Because this kiss, it's gotta change things right? Or is Sam just high on birthday cake. Is Sam just dream- nightmaring again. Is Sam just Dean-nightmaring again.

 

Dean pulls back, lips looking sweeter than any icing. He opens his mouth, shuts it, and opens it again.

 

“I’m sorry."

 

“What for.”

 

Sam quirks one eyebrow up before leaning back in and kissing him again.

 

Sam can't think right now, sugar making him confident. He knows he tastes good.

 

“Can I kiss you again?" Dean breathes, oblivious to how much Sam never wants to stop kissing him.

 

Dean's grin is sheepish, hand-in-the-cookie-jar bashful.

Sam is counting minutes and it's only been six.

 

“Of course"

 

Their bag of takeout is still in Dean's lap, the box of cassettes between them, but sam's hands are cradling dean's face, sweet and soft.

 

It's his birthday and Sam says fuck you to demon cavities and sacrificial tendencies, and just lets himself have this honey spun prize. His brother is the most honest miracle of his entire lifestyle.

 

Sam sings his hymns to dean's mouth. He worships Dean’s adam's apple with reverent fingers.

 

Sam praises dean's eyelashes and baptizes Dean's hands. Memorizes denim knees and how they feel when you pray to your brother's mouth,Sam tastes sweat-sticky skin and feels the familiar soft-yet-rough feel of dean's thrift store flannels.

 

Sam finds sugar give away to tequila, because Sammy it's your birthday and we're doing shots. Sam finds after everything, that tequila gives way to sugar again, bookends to an imperfect story. Dean curled into his side, like it’s always meant to be.


End file.
